Juniper's Story
by SoraCharlotteRose13
Summary: My name is Juniper Aceton. I didn't know my mother and I were magical. My father never told me. In fact,he beat me whenever I asked.


Chapter 1

My name is Juniper Aceton. I'm eleven years old. I have long, jet black hair like my mother, and light blue eyes. I live in a small, quiet town on what would be a quiet neighborhood, if my father didn't exist. And my life is pretty much a living hell.

"Juniper! Get the hell down here!!"

I cringe at the sound of my father's screaming, and cover my face, and rush to the door to bolt it, terrified thoughts rushing through my mind. There is a moment of silence, an awful, quiet, pause, then that loud, harsh voice bellows out, a sound like thunder cutting through the sky, that bounces off the walls and makes the wood floor of my room vibrate.

"JUNIPER!! WHAT DID I TELL YOU, YOU LITTLE BRAT!! GET THE BLOODY HELL DOWN IN THIS LIVING ROOM, RIGHT NOW!!"

I sob, covering my ears, then cautiously take a few steps to my door. I wonder what I have done that is so horrible to my father. I'd washed the dishes. I'd kept out of the way of Dad's poker party. I'd made him dinner. Why in the world was I in trouble. As my trembling fingers touched the bolt, I prayed that I would not get beaten. I'd already had enough beatings this weak, and if I got anymore, the school nurse would probably call home, and I'd just get in more trouble.

"NOOOWWW!"

I gasped, and jumped, and my body shook with sobs. I slid the bolt open, swung the door open really fast, and rushed down the hallway and downstairs obediently.

My father was standing up in the living room, waiting for me. His eyes were wide with anger. In his callused, huge hand, he held what looked like a letter.

"What did I do, Dad?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Dad's eyes burned with fury, and he let out a sound that resembled a tiger about to pounce on it's prey. I said another "Hail Mary" in my head.

"This," Dad raised the hand that held the letter in one quick jerk. He held it out for me, "What the hell is this?" His voice was lowered a bit now, but it didn't sound the least bit friendly.

My hand shook as I took the flimsy paper. My hand looked very small compared to my father's.

It was clearly an envelope. I noticed that the seal, a very fancy, flourished one had been ripped open by my father, a jagged tear. The address on the back was definitely mine. It stated my name, my address, even my age, and it addressed me as a "Miss." I gave my father a shaky, innocent, confused look.

He sucked in a long breath, shutting his eyes. "Just....read...it." He jabbed.

I slid the piece of parchment out of the envelope, and opened it slowly.

_To Miss Juniper Rose Aceton. We would like to inform you that you are qualified to attend Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Hogwarts Express leaves on the morning of this Monday. Required supplies:_

And after the letter, was a list of odd things like "Charms" books, and quills, and robes. The letter was signed, "Proffesor Minerva McGonagall," and mentioned, "Headmaster Albus Dumbledore." I frowned, even more confused.

"Kid, I don't know how the hell this got delivered here, but I know you're involved in this," He jabbed a finger at me, and I gasped, "How many times have I told you not to speak to strangers and not to sign any of there papers?"

I was speechless, "B-but Daddy! I didn't sign anything!!"

"Bull!!" He shouted, "Pure bull!!" He stormed at me, and grabbed my shoulder, hard.

"TELL ME!!" He roared in my face. I was shaking so hard, and tears were running down my face. I couldn't answer.

SLAP!! Right across my face. I fell back onto the floor. My hand rose to my now sore, burning cheek.

"Tell me, girl, or I swear," He rose a fist. I sobbed, and clumsily scooted myself as fast as I could underneath a coffee table.

"You little shit!!" My father chased after me, but wasn't really watching where he was going. He slipped on the carpet, and bashed into the glass table. He then fell loudly to the floor, and grabbed his now bleeding leg, cursing, and shouting in pain.

I rose to my feet, and rushed up the stairs. I knew I had to get out of here as fast as I could. I hurried into my room, grabbing a small black bag I kept in my closet, then threw a picture of my mother, a black jacket, my old favorite doll and teddy bear my mother gave me, a flashlight, a small amount of money, and one of the few books I kept hidden. Then, I ran downstairs again, just as Daddy was climbing to his feet.

"Get over here!!" He thundered. He clumsily tried to stand, which resulted in him falling backwards, and hitting his head on the couch's rough arm. Blood was already forming on the wood floor.

I grabbed the chance I was being given, and ran straight out the door into the dark night.

I had no idea where in the world I was going. I just kept walking, walking down the dark, lamp-lit street, peeking at the warm-looking lighted windows of the houses around me. I walked and walked, and walked, until I couldn't walk any longer. And then, I crashed, sitting down on the cold, dry sidewalk.

By that time, everyone on the whole street was sleeping. All the lights were off, and the curtains were drawn. I thought of all the other kids in the town, sleeping in soft warm beds, knowing they'll wake up to a nice, filling breakfast provided by their parents. And the thought made my heart fill up with sadness. At the moment I had no bed. I had no house now either. I had no mom. I was pretty much a homeless people.

I wiped strands of long black hair out of my face, and tried not to cry as I thought about what I would do next. I decided that I'd start looking for a new place to live once the sun came up; it was too dark, and their could be crazy people out and about who could cause me harm. At first, I considered stretching out and sleeping, but decided not to, as I might get discovered by someone who lived in the house next to the sidewalk that I was sitting on.

Digging a book and flashlight out of my bag, I tried to calm myself by reading. But then, a thought popped into my head, something I hadn't really thought of.

Where would I go? Where would I live? Who would actually take me in, who was nice and not dangerous? I hadn't thought of this before. Now that I thought of this, tears formed in my eyes. It would be hard to find an orphanage or homeless shelter or something in this town. I had no maps. I probably didn't have enough money to go to an airport or train station and find a relative. And it would look very strange, a little pre-teen girl walking around town, with no parents with her. Tears rolled down my cheeks, burning my left cheek, which had been struck by my father's hand. I wiped them away, trying to think better thoughts. At least I wasn't back there, with my father.

I opened my bag and pulled out something to eat. I had brought a small bag of pretzels that I had been hiding in my room from Dad. I opened it, and ate the pretzels as slow as I could, eating only half. Then, I folded the plastic pouch that the pretzels had come in, and put it back in my bag. After all, I may need food if I couldn't find any stands or shops.

After I ate, I felt strangely tired, and drowsy. I gasped, and tried to fight off the sleepiness, but before I knew it, I was stretched out on the ground, falling asleep, overwhelmed with exhaustion....


End file.
